


findaholidaydate.com

by Lecavayay



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, an abundance of holiday parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-29 00:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecavayay/pseuds/Lecavayay
Summary: In a cloud of desperation, Auston pulls out his laptop and searches “how to find a date asap”. The usual dating websites show up: Match, eHarmony, Plenty of Fish. He keeps scrolling until he sees one he doesn’t recognize.findaholidaydate.comSeems oddly specific to his needs but he clicks on it anyway, certain it’s too good to be true.





	findaholidaydate.com

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doespenguinsisgay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doespenguinsisgay/gifts).



> Thank you so much to verbaeghe for letting me complain about this the entire time I was writing it and for continually telling me it was not trash. You're the best.

Auston waits until the guy is breathing deeply before slipping out of bed and collecting his clothes. It’s not too difficult to maneuver through the small apartment in the dark, trailing a hand along the wall to keep his balance. His shoes are in a pile by the door which makes it handy just to pick them up and step into the brightly lit hallway.

He orders a Lyft on his way to the stairs, sliding into his sneakers before jogging down to street level.

It’s freezing and he wraps his coat tightly around himself as he paces along the edge of the sidewalk. The road is quiet this early in the morning, the sky barely starting to lighten. Auston sighs, the puff of air visible under the streetlamps.

His phone vibrates, a warning that his battery is getting low. He wills it to hang on long enough to get him home. Maybe his Lyft driver will let him borrow a charger.

The blue Honda Accord rolls to a stop at the corner and Auston checks the license plate before slipping into the backseat.

“Starting the day off early?” the driver asks.

Auston smiles at him in the rearview. “Haven’t been to bed yet.”

He’s thankful the guy isn’t much of a talker as they head for the heart of downtown Toronto. The buildings grow taller and taller until he can’t see the tops without leaning his forehead against the window.

Some of the streetlamps are fighting with themselves, not quite sure if it’s light enough to turn off yet. Auston feels the drag of sleep as the car rolls to a stop outside his place.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. Beat the Wild on Saturday, eh?”

A zing of adrenaline shoots up Auston’s spine at being recognized. “We’ll do our best.”

The lobby of his building is empty, save for the usual guy behind the desk. Auston waves politely before slipping into the elevator. He stretches his neck, rolling it around on his shoulders, kneading the muscle with his hand. He sighs when he finds a bruise, something mouth-shaped.

The elevator dings.

His apartment is dark and empty, cool with the setting moon shining through the living room windows. He kicks off his shoes and sheds his shirt and jeans, drops his boxers just outside his bedroom door.

His bed is honestly the best thing he’s spent money on – soft but not too soft, covered in too many pillows and an exceptionally fluffy comforter. Everything is cold against his skin as he faceplants onto the mattress. He stretches out his legs and arms, a little stiff from holding himself up all night.

He sets an alarm for a few hours and passes out.

//

Auston walks into the locker room in sunglasses and a scarf. He only gets chirped from a handful of the guys and responds with a pair of middle fingers.

“Good morning to you too, assholes.” He settles at his stall and unzips his coat. It’s been shockingly cold the past few weeks and Auston is absolutely not here for it.

“Which dingy college apartment did you fall out of this time?” Naz jokes.

Auston stretches out, taking up as much space as he can. “Why? You want his number?”

Kappy throws his beanie at Auston. “No one wants your hand-me-downs.”

“Bet they’re better than anyone you pick up.”

“Fuck off.”

Naz whistles when Auston takes off his scarf. “Bit of a biter, eh?”

Auston smiles, shrugging. He likes that kind of thing. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, Matts.”

 

Practice is brutal and Auston’s dripping sweat (and a little bit of alcohol) by the end of it, muscles even more sore in all the right ways.

Freddie is already showered and sitting in his stall, waiting for the rest of them to make it off the ice. He’s starting tonight.

Auston barely gets his jersey off before Freddie’s moved closer, leaning casually against the edge of his stall. “You going to Gards’ thing?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He hangs up his shoulder pads and slips out of the rest of his upper body gear. “You bringing someone?”

Freddie makes a non-committal noise.

“Is that a no?”

“I’m not really seeing anyone right now.”

“Bullshit.” Auston sits to start picking the tape off his skates. “You’re always seeing someone.”

“Are _you_ bringing someone?”

“I mean, I’m not going to be the only one there stag,” he snaps. “That’s boring.”

“Got someone in mind?”

He shrugs. “I guess.”

“Oh?” Freddie raises his eyebrows like he knows Auston’s lying.

“Sure. I’ve got someone in mind.”

“What’s his name?”

“Get fucked.”

Freddie laughs at him as he finally gets his laces undone, kicking out of his skates. “You wanna grab lunch?”

Auston is pretty hungry but the pull of sleep is too strong. “I need a nap. Maybe next time.”

“Fair enough, I’ll see you for pregame.” He holds out his fist for a bump and Auston obliges.

Auston sits up and rolls his shoulders. He should probably soak in the hot tub for a bit, maybe get a rub down before he heads back to his bed. Although at this rate, he could probably fall asleep in his stall. Maybe laying down in water isn’t the best ide--

“So did mine ears deceive me, or does the Great Auston Matthews have a boyfriend?” Naz heckles, throwing himself down on the bench.  

Auston snorts and gives him a shove. “That’s absolutely not what I said. Quit eavesdropping, you’re terrible at it.”

“You sure?”

“Go away.”

“Must be pretty serious if you’re showing him off to the team.”

“We’re not getting married, calm down.” Auston throws his ball of used skate tape at him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Didn’t bring anyone last year.”

It’s true. Which is how he knows showing up to Gards’ drunken Christmas party alone is a bad move. “I’m maturing.”

“Mhmm, sure bud. Can’t wait to meet him.” Naz slips away with a look Auston knows means he’s in trouble.

News travels fast in this locker room.

//

Thirty-five thousand feet in the air, halfway from Minnesota to Buffalo, the other shoe drops.

Auston takes the shiny gold envelope from Mo and sighs. “Hang on. Why does my invite say _Auston and Guest_?”

“Because that’s the polite thing to do when you don’t know the name of a date,” Mo says, matter-of-factly.

“What makes you think I’m bringing a date to the Official Leafs holiday party?”

Mo straightens his shoulders. “Naz said that he heard you talking to Freddie the other morning about how you’re seeing someone. So.”

Auston cannot believe this is happening to him.

“We’re excited to meet him,” Kappy says, leaning over the aisle to join the conversation. “The Guy Who Locked Down Auston Matthews.”

“Uh, I don’t act--.”

“Yeah, it’ll be great,” Freddie, the traitor, adds from the seat next to Auston. He slings his arm over his shoulders and squeezes. “I’m sure he’ll fit right in. He’s coming to Gards’ thing too, right?”

Auston grits his teeth. This is the point he should deny it, head the whole thing off before it goes too far. Deny, deny, deny.  “Yeah. He’ll be there. Can’t wait.”

Mo gives him a real earnest look and Auston almost can’t keep a straight face. “I’m really glad you’ve found someone, Matts. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Mo.” He shrugs Freddie’s arm off him because he’s a terrible friend.

//

Okay, fuck. He needs to figure this out.

Once he’s settled into his hotel room in Buffalo, he scrolls through his phone contacts, hoping someone will pop out at him as a possibly suitable date: Best Dick You’ve Ever Had, Big Dick, Bigger Dick, Biggest Dick, Blake…

He really needs to reassess how he names contacts in his phone. Shit.

Considering his options, he opens a text to Big Dick. He’s pretty sure the number belongs to a guy named Sean was who nice and had a decent condo. He’d probably look good in a sweater and khakis. Presentable.

_Hey Sean, this is Auston. Would you be interested in being my date for a couple holiday parties I’ve got coming up? No pressure. Open bar and free food._

He hits send before he can second guess this whole fucked up situation. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_Hey man, would love to but I actually got a new job recently so I’m not in the Toronto area anymore._

Auston frowns but types out a reply. _Cool bro, congrats!_ He pulls up his contacts again and tries the same thing with Bigger Dick and Blake with no luck.

To be fair, Blake was always kind of bitchy and Auston doesn’t do himself any favors when he gets Bigger Dick’s name wrong.

Basically, the conclusion he’s come to is that this is not working and he’s T-minus 48 hours until he needs to lockdown a date.

It feels too late in the game to go out to a bar and try to cultivate a new relationship, especially since he’s not even in fucking Toronto. He’s out of options.

In a cloud of desperation, he pulls out his laptop and searches “how to find a date asap”.

The usual dating websites show up: Match, eHarmony, Plenty of Fish. He keeps scrolling until he sees one he doesn’t recognize.

findaholidaydate.com

Seems oddly specific to his needs but he clicks on it anyway, certain it’s too good to be true. The website looks legit enough. He skims through the FAQs to get a better gist of what he’s jumping into and is surprised to find it’s not like a dating site at all. It’s a freelance escort service, each person setting their own fees and limits.

Huh.

He hesitates for about thirty seconds before he begins the task of creating a profile.

He fills everything out with his usual fake name and email address. He picks a picture that only shows him from the smile down and hits _create profile_. There’s an extensive list of questions he has to go through in order to be matched: what type of holiday gathering, dress code, level of intimacy wanted, how long is the gathering, what city is it in, level of drinking, type of food available, if there will be gifts exchanged, transportation…

“Jesus Christ.”

He fills the questionnaire out diligently, thinking specifically about what Gards’ party is going to be like.

_House party._

_Casual dress._

_No preference._

_4-6 hours._

_Toronto._

_High level of drinking._

_Finger foods._

_No gifts._

_Transportation not provided._

Auston submits his answers and almost closes his laptop when another set of questions appears. _Help us narrow down your search. Please describe your ideal date using the questions below._

Fine. This is fine. He ticks the boxes for _male_ and _6’0’’ or taller_ quickly. He doesn’t care about eye color or hair style or ethnicity. Doesn’t care about occupation or level of income. Doesn’t care about much of anything with the party looming over his shoulder. He sets a generous ten-year age range before hitting _submit._

He holds his breath as the next page loads, begging it not to be more questions.

A slew of profiles shows up on his screen, filtered from highest to lowest match based on his criteria. The first guy has a beefy neck and a chiseled jaw. Auston thinks he could probably bench press him and moves on to bachelor number two.

…who is balding. Next.

Number three has a pornstache that would be chirped mercilessly.

Four barely looks eighteen, which kind of gives Auston the creeps.

The fifth guy has potential with his long, dark hair and five o’clock shadow. He’s definitely at the top end of Auston’s requested age range, but that could be a good thing. Maybe he’s mature.

Auston marks him for later and moves on to number six.

Nope.

Seven has wild eyebrows and sunken eyes which makes all of his photos look kind of scary. Not exactly who he’d want to stand next to in team pictures.

Eight, nine, and ten are all attractive enough but nothing about their profiles strike Auston as interesting. They’re options but not very good ones.

Number eleven definitely played in the O and Auston would love to steer clear of that.

Twelve through fourteen are okay. Fourteen, in particular, seems like he was probably in a frat in college which could come in handy for beer pong. Auston marks him for later.

Number fifteen is wearing glasses, which is cute, but he’s so skinny Auston feels like he’d snap him in half just by looking at him.

Getting slightly annoyed, Auston scrolls down to view the sixteenth profile with little hope.

The guy is right around Auston’s age and has a wide, bright smile. He’s also got a pretty awesome forearm tattoo and a few dark freckles around his mouth that draw Auston in. Good hair. Thick neck. There’s a pic where he’s got his hands around a water bottle and honestly Auston’s mouth goes a little dry.

He sends a _hey_ to mmarns before he chickens out.

Okay, there. Done.

The lack of instant reply is unsettling. His profile says he usually responds within 24 hours but Auston needs a reply _now_.

He refreshes the page a few times and does some laps around the room. There’s nothing on TV and Twitter is boring. He watches all of his Insta stories and mmarns has still not responded. Auston gets off the bed to go stand at the window in hopes of people watching. Naturally, his room looks out over the roof of the building next door. There’s officially nothing else to distract him from waiting.

Fuck.

Maybe he should have asked a question? Or like, described the party? Introduced himself? Damn it, he’s an idiot. This guy probably gets messages all the time, Auston should have done better to sell himself.

He’s halfway through writing a second message when a little chime sounds.

_Hey man, what’s up?_

Oh thank god. _I’ve got a couple Christmas parties coming up and I was wondering if you’d be interested in being my date?_

_What dates? Lemme see if I’m available._

Auston sends him the dates. _The second one is an office party so there’ll be less drinking._

He doesn’t know why he’s acting like this guy isn’t going to immediately figure out who Auston is when he shows up to a room full of Toronto Maple Leaf players. You’d have to literally live in a cave not to recognize at least one person on the roster.

_Sounds cool! I’m free both nights. Have you used FAHD before?_

_tbh I didn’t know it existed until like, two hours ago_

Auston watches impatiently as mmarns types out a novel in response.

_Haha okay so, I’ve got three different date packages, depending on what youre looking for? $20/hr is the basic boyfriend package: we play it like we haven’t been dating long, I don’t know much about you, we haven’t met the parents, low intimacy, etc. $40/hr is a nice middle of the road: we’ve probably been dating for a year or less, we’ve got a story about how we met, I know the important stuff like your pet’s name, siblings, what you do for a living, etc., hand-holding, sitting in laps, snuggling, laughing at your bad jokes all included. $65/hr is the works, I’ll be full husband material all night, A+ acting skills on point, whoever you want me to be. This is the only price that’ll get you a public goodnight kiss, if you’re looking for that kind of thing. Obviously, I’m not a prostitute, so anything more than that isn’t on the table._

Auston’s kind of overwhelmed. This is nothing like picking up someone from a bar or through a dating site. This is a legit transaction. For $65 an hour, Auston can have a believable, smoking hot boyfriend.

_How do I know you’ve got A+ acting skills??_

mmarns is quick to reply. _You can read my reviews. I give great holiday boyfriend._

Auston laughs and clicks the link he sent, scanning down through the reviews. It really does seem like the guy is good at this. The worst he’s ever gotten is 3 stars: _Mitch was great but I think it might help overall if Facebook or other social media can be linked to profiles so we know how many friends in common we have with our dates. It was a shock to discover one of my friends had previously dated Mitch when they were in college._

Auston flips back to their message. _Not to sound like a dick but how can I be sure you haven’t dated one of my friends before?_

_I mean, Toronto is kind of a big place? But if you’re worried about that, we can come up with a contingency plan for if that happens. I’m open to whatever makes you most comfortable._

That’s fair. Mitch seems like a professional. Which makes sense, he’s been on over 50 dates. Auston considers it just a minute longer. He really doesn’t have any other options besides coming clean to his team that he let them believe a lie.

_You’re not a serial killer, are you?_

_I only kill my dates after they leave me a bangin review._

Auston thinks Mitch is going to get along swimmingly with the team. _Okay, well before we commit to this loving holiday murder relationship, I think there’s something you should know about me._

//

His phone pings with a handful of texts as they load the bus in Buffalo.

_If you really are Auston Matthews, good game dude._

Mitch’s text makes him smile. The guy had not believed Auston for a second when he told him who he was and where they were going on their holiday dates. He scoffed at the pictures Auston had sent him, claiming he could have pulled them off Instagram or Google. Too much of Auston’s life was publicized these days. Mitch wasn’t going to believe him until they met face-to-face.

“Rest up, boys!” Guards announces once they’re all on board. “Big party tomorrow!”

The team won’t get back to Toronto before 2am but Auston thinks he’ll still be riding the high of an overtime game winning goal. He could probably tumble into a bar before closing time and find someone who wanted their dick sucked, go home with them and work out the pent-up energy. He could easily go a couple rounds and make it back to his bed by sunrise. They don’t have practice tomorrow, so he could practically sleep until the party.

Ideal.

On a whim, Auston thinks of a way to prove himself to Mitch. _Whos your fav maple leaf?_

_Patrick Marleau_

Auston actually laughs out loud and startles Freddie, who had already fallen asleep against the window next to him. He probably deserves the near-punch to the arm.

“Shut the fuck up, Matts,” he grumbles.

“Sorry, sorry. Hey, is Patty up front?”

“Yeah. Likes to keep the driver company.”

Auston waits until they get on the highway before making his way to the front of the bus. Patty is in his own seat, glasses on, reading. “Hey, weird request.”

Patty marks his spot in his book. “Okay.”

“Can I take a selfie with you? I’m trying to prove something.”

“Prove what?”

“That I know you.”

Patty raises his eyebrows. “We’re on the same team, Auston.”

“I know, it’s complicated. Can I please take a picture? Just real quick?”

He resituates himself in his seat and sighs. “If this gets me in trouble, I’m disinviting you from the cookie party.”

“I would never get you in trouble,” Auston says, hand over his heart. “Now smile!”

He sends the selfie to Mitch with the caption _Patty says hi!_ He’s barely back to his seat before he gets a reply.

_No way._

_Holy shit, are you kidding me?_

_Dude._

_What?!_

Auston’s feeling smug when he sends a simple _believe me now??_

_My mind is honestly blown. I don’t know if I can recover from this._

_I think the $65 an hr I’m paying you to be chill will help._

_I have to be CHILL jfc I should’ve asked for 70._

Auston laughs under his breath, careful not to wake Freddie up this time. Tomorrow should be fun.

//

He meets Mitch right on schedule on the corner in front of Gards’ building. The guy is just as tall as he said he was, and his pictures were pretty much right on point. Auston’s knees go a little weak when Mitch turns that smile on him.

Yikes.

“Auston?” he asks, like he doesn’t know.

“Mitch?”

He shifts the bottle of wine he brought to his left hand in order to shake Auston’s right. “It’s really awesome to meet you.”

“You too,” Auston says, like an idiot. “I mean, uh, it’s really great that you could do this for me so last minute.”

“Don’t look so awkward, bud. Let’s go get drunk.”

Auston rolls his eyes to the heavens as they head for the elevator, pressing the button for floor 12 once the doors close. He stands a comfortable distance from Mitch as soft Christmas music fills the spaces between them. He doesn’t understand why he’s nervous. This is going to work. Mitch is a pro.

Once they’re faced with Gards’ door, Mitch slips his arm through Auston’s and leans close. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” he coughs out. “For sure.”

Mitch snickers. “Don’t sound so Canadian about it.”

Auston doesn’t think that deserves a retaliatory comment and instead, chooses that moment to finally knock.

Mo answers with red cheeks and messy hair, tacky Christmas sweater blinking at them. “Matts!”

They are quickly ushered inside and Mitch’s bottle of wine gets added to the messy pile of alcohol in the kitchen.

Naz is the first to descend on them, naturally. “Wow, Matts. You really punched above your weight class this time, eh?”

“He’s way too good-looking for you,” Kappy chimes in, double fisting bottles of beer.

“No wonder you’re not fucking around anymore,” Zach’s boyfriend, Willy, says. “Damn.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Nylander,” Auston chirps.

Mitch seems to be vibrating with joy, eyes darting from one Maple Leaf to another in awe. “I’m Mitch.”

“Welcome to the team,” Freddie says, appearing with handfuls of whiskey shots. He meets Auston’s gaze and raises an eyebrow at him.

Auston shrugs and takes a shot. Freddie can take him and his eyebrow somewhere else. “Where are all the cool people?”

“Playing beer pong,” Kappy says. “I’ve got next.”

Perfect. “Me and Mitch’ll play winner.”

 

Willy and Zach beat Kappy and Mo handedly and Auston cannot wait to return the favor.

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough to do this,” Mitch says, working on his third beer as they step up to the table.

“Don’t worry.” Auston drops a pair of ping pong balls in the water cup. “I got this.”

“Don’t let him walk all over you, Mitchy,” Willy says from the other end of the table. “He’s not as good as he thinks he is.”

“I’ll make sure you eat those words.”

Mitch giggles into his beer and Auston is struck by the sound, noticing how pink his cheeks look. Maybe it’s just the glow of the colorful lights hung up around the room.

“Grab your balls, losers.”

Zach shoves Willy for his comment. “Quit being so competitive.”

“Says the professional athlete.” Willy shoves back and drains his first ball.

Mitch takes a big sip of his drink. “Lemme take the first few drinks,” he says, leaning close to Auston so only he can hear. “I swear I’m so good with a buzz.”

“Cool.” He makes his first cup and delights in Willy taking a drink. “Game on.”

 

Mitch was not joking. The guy is fantastic with three and a half beers in him.

“Island,” he calls before draining the cup. “Boom!”

Zach and Willy are drowning in beer, only two cups left on their side.

“You’re heatin’ up, aren’t you babe?” Auston asks. “Two in a row.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

Willy and Zach both miss. Auston hits the rim of the cup he was aiming for and then Mitch steps back up to the line. “Should I call it?” he asks, turning a blinding smile toward Auston.

“Nah, don’t be _too_ cocky.”

“Left,” he whispers, just before nailing it. “On fire! Gimme that ball back, this game is _over_!”

Willy undoes a few shirt buttons, shimmying his chest over the last remaining cup to try and be distracting. “Choke! Miss it!”

“Not a chance.” Mitch takes aim and ends the game. Doesn’t even hit the rim.

Auston would be lying if he didn’t think it was a little bit hot.

“I’m gonna grab another one, you want anything?” Mitch asks. He looks almost casual, like nothing about this situation throws him off. His smile, if possible, is wider than when Auston first met him and for a moment he considers how many fingers he could fit along his tongue.

“No,” he coughs out. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

He watches Mitch bounce out of the room, slipping by Gards and Mo in a heated debate, surely about something stupid.

“ _Dude,_ ” Willy hisses. “He’s an ace. Do not fuck this up.”

“For once, I agree with him,” Zach adds. “He seems like a good guy.”

“Can’t believe a guy like that wants to be around you.”

Auston tenses, stomach sinking a bit. “Fuck off, I’m amazing,” he spits, almost believing it. On second thought, maybe he does need another drink.

 

An unknown number of beers and shots later, Auston is feeling warm and fuzzy on the couch. There’re so many pillows on it he kind of feels like he’s sinking. He might be trapped here forever.

Someone, probably Naz, whistles obnoxiously and it grabs Auston’s attention.

Close to the speakers, a little cluster of guys has circled around to watch Mitch, who is whipping his arms around as he crouches low to the ground. Objectively, it’s ridiculous. Drunkenly, he’s pretty good.

He transitions through a few more Fortnite moves and ends his show with a speed round of flossing. Auston drains the beer he’s holding.

“Okay, okay, Jakey’s up next,” Mo says, scrolling through his phone to pick a song.

It’s a heavy beat, something that belongs in a dark club, a mass of humanity swaying and grinding to the bass. Auston likes it.

Gards does what he usually does, thrusting his hips to the music. He lifts his shirt up in some kind of drunken seduction and Naz has to hold himself up he’s laughing so hard. Auston doesn’t know why, Gards is really good. He thinks if he ever needed a backup plan, he could work at a strip club or in Vegas at one of those Chippendale shows.

“Hey.” Mitch flops onto the couch next to where Auston is still melting into the cushions. He’s flushed, face red and the edges of his hair a little dark with sweat. “D’you see me?”

“Yeah, f’course. Not bad.” Auston doesn’t lean into the arm Mitch presses against his side. He stays very still. This is professional.

“I didn’t know it was a strip tease,” Mitch says, nodding to where Gards has lost his shirt entirely. “I would’ve done something different.”

Auston raises his eyebrows. “You’ve got Magic Mike moves?”

Mitch shrugs, drinks his beer. “I don’t know why I was so nervous, coming into this. You guys are just like any other hockey bros I’ve hung with.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda terrible.” Gards is basically humping the back of the couch at this point. Surely the song is almost over.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Mitch says.

Auston risks looking over at him and knows it’s immediately a mistake. Mitch’s sweaty hair is all messed up and his lips are shiny from how often he’s been licking them. “It’s whatever.”

Mitch laughs. “None of my friends will ever believe this happened.”

“Is this the weirdest first date you’ve ever been on?”

“Excuse you, this is our like, tenth date? Our first was at that bar where we met and you took me home and ravished me.”

The words roll off Mitch’s tongue so easily, Auston almost believes it. He can almost conjure up the image of Mitch in a bar and Auston putting on the moves. Hand on the curve of his lower back. Leaning in close to hear Mitch introduce himself over the music. It’s easy to play into it. “Yeah, of course. How could I forget?”

The music changes and Mitch sits up, turning to face Auston full-on. “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugs and wishes he had another beer in reach. “Might not answer.”

“Why did you hire me?”

Auston wipes his palms on his thighs before he stands. “I didn’t, remember? I met you in a bar.”

Maybe he wants a shot instead of a beer.

Naturally, Kappy is digging through the fridge and Willy is up on the counter with a bottle of peppermint schnapps.

“Gimme some of that.” He reaches out for the bottle, but Willy lifts it up out of reach.

“Ask nicely.”

“How’s your date going?” Kappy asks, cracking open a can of Coors. The mountains on it are still white.

“It’s chill,” Auston snaps.

“Yeah, sure.” Willy kicks at Auston’s ass. “Open your mouth.”

The peppermint schnapps burns a little as Willy pours it into his mouth but Auston swallows the whole shot dutifully. “I mean, it’s not that serious.”

“I caught him looking at you with some major heart eyes. The guy’s practically in love.”

Auston’s stomach flutters but he pushes through. “It’s just cause I’ve got a big dick. He’s probably thinking about how the night’s going to end.”

“Shut up,” Kappy says. “Everyone knows you’re a bottom.”

“There’s other ways to get a dick wet, Kap,” Willy pipes in. “Have you seen the mouth on that guy?”

“What about my mouth?” Mitch is leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded and smug look on his face.

Willy bats his eyelashes in Mitch’s general direction. “I’m sure you’ve heard it all before.”

“Probably so.” Mitch looks like he’s unbothered by his eavesdropping and steps up into Auston’s space. “I think a bunch of the guys just left, you wanna go home or?”

He checks the time on his phone. “Yeah, fuck. It’s like, late.”

“Later, lovebirds,” Willy sings, taking another swig of schnapps.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Kappy adds.

Auston rolls his eyes. “Bye, assholes.”

He follows Mitch toward the front door, slipping back into his shoes and coat. They don’t escape unscathed, having to give a round of goodbyes to the drunkest of the guys left standing. Mo gives them both at least three hugs.

“Drink water,” he says, face trying to look serious. “We’ve got a game tomorrow.”

Auston laughs, giving one last wave before stepping out into the quiet hallway. It’s bright compared to Gards’ place and his eyes take a minute to adjust.

“That was fun, eh?” Mitch asks, bounding for the elevator at the end of the hall.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Thanks for hanging out so long.”

Mitch presses the down button. “Not a hardship, man. Drinking with the Toronto Maple Leafs is something I didn’t even realize was on my bucket list.”

“You played it pretty chill.”

The elevator arrives and they both get on, leaning up against opposite walls.

“I told you, A+ acting skills.”

“I’ll be sure to leave a bangin’ review.”

Mitch beams. “Thanks, bud.”

Auston has to look at his feet, away from Mitch’s everything. Luckily, the ride down isn’t very long and the doors open, letting Auston escape the proximity. He’s just about to offer to get Mitch a Lyft when he spots Freddie and Brownie hovering just inside the doors. Shit.

“Uh, we should probably share a car,” Auston whispers. “For appearances.”

“Yeah, cool. I’ll just catch one to my place from yours. I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”

Auston considers protesting but Freddie notices them then. “Early night for you, Aus.”

He puts on a sleazy smirk. “Wanted to get a workout in before curfew.” He has A+ acting skills, too.

Freddie inclines his eyebrows toward Mitch, who’s fiddling on his phone. Auston doesn’t appreciate their tone.

“My ride’s here,” Brownie announces. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Freddie turns to his phone then and Auston feels left out, so he gets it together enough to finally order a car to his place. He clears out some emails and checks up on Twitter. Nothing much to see. “Damn, that was fast. How did our guy beat yours?”

Freddie frowns. “He got lost, had to circle the block.”

“Bad luck,” Mitch says. “It was nice to meet you!”

“Take care of him,” Freddie says. “He’s a baby with a hangover.”

They shuffle out into the cold and right into the backseat of the black sedan waiting for them. Mitch leans his head against the window and Auston has the urge to tug him closer, even if there is no one there to see their show.

Mitch breathes onto the window and draws a tiny smiley face in the fog he made.

Auston wishes he didn’t find it so cute.

The drive isn’t very long, in good weather Auston could probably walk it. It’s still fucking expensive with the upcharge. “Thanks, man,” he says, stepping out onto the curb.

“I’m so sorry,” Mitch says, once he’s shut the door behind him. “But I really have to pee. Can I come up just for like, thirty seconds?”

Auston doesn’t know what his body is doing. Half of him is fully revolting against the idea of a stranger coming up to his place and the other half is doing backflips at the thought of having Mitch that close to his bed. “Sure, dude. No problem.”

On the way up, he panics about the possibility of embarrassing things being strewn all over the place. He’s like 90% sure his dildo is still stuck to the shower door.

It’s fine.

“First door on the right,” he says, pointing Mitch to the bathroom once they’re inside.

He busies himself in the kitchen, getting down two glasses and filling them with water. He considers popping some pizza rolls in the microwave. There wasn’t really much food at the party.

Mitch reappears as he’s putting the plate in. “Hey.”

“Hey I, uh, I wasn’t sure if you wanted water or whatever?”

Mitch steps into the kitchen to take the glass. “Morgan was pretty serious about your hydration.”

“No one calls him Morgan.”

“I’m not really on nickname basis, am I?”

“I’m not even sure he responds to Morgan anymore. Like, if you yelled that at him, I don’t think he’d even turn around.”

Mitch laughs quietly. “I should head out.”

“Don’t wanna wait for pizza rolls?” There’s less than a minute left on the timer.

“Nah, I’ll get out of your hair.” He sets his empty glass back on the counter. “Tonight was so great, though. I’m really glad you found me.”

“Me too.”

Mitch licks his lips and smiles. “Good night, Auston.”

Auston watches him let himself out of his apartment and sighs. The microwave beeps and he’s not even that hungry anymore. Instead, he finishes his water and goes to brush his teeth. Morning alcohol breath is the worst.

It takes him a minute to notice it propped up on the back of the toilet, but when he does it makes him flush.

The stupid light up board he bought on a whim says _Beer Pong Glory_ now with a little beer glass below it. He takes a picture and sends it to Mitch.

 _Lemme know when we have to defend our title_ , Mitch sends back.

 _Deal_.

//

Auston wakes up to his alarm and a Venmo notification. In what he’s come to discover is just how Mitch is, the request is all emojis: a Christmas tree, the dancing lady, beer mugs, and a tennis ball. Which Auston assumes is as close as he could get to a ping pong ball.

He sends the money plus a little extra before getting out of bed.

It’s a gameday, so he goes through his usual routine starting with one of the frozen egg and turkey bacon sandwiches his meal service delivered last week and a pre-made green smoothie. He talks to his mom on the way to morning skate and feels pretty good as they run through some drills.

A few of the guys that were still at Gards’ when he left last night look a little tired. Nothing some IV fluids and a greasy hamburger won’t cure.

“Looking a little slow today, Mo,” he chirps, before skating around him and putting a shot on Freddie. “Probably need to drink a little more water.”

“Fuck off, Matts,” he says, bent over with his stick across his knees.

They’ve all played through worse. “I’m only suggesting you take your own advice.”

“I’m a hypocrite. Now leave me alone to die in peace.”

Auston skates away to go bother Kappy.

 

The locker room is pretty quiet after, everyone making quick work of their gear in order to get home for a nap. Freddie’s stretching when Auston notices a small, dark mark on his neck, just below where his shirt collar usually sits.

It’s not smart to bother a goalie on gameday but he’s not playing, so Auston risks it. “Where’d you get that?”

Freddie doesn’t move any part of his body except his eyes, glaring over at Auston. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You said you’re not seeing anyone.”

He pulls up the collar of his shirt. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m nosy as fuck. Tell me who it is!”

“No.”

“So you admit you’re seeing someone?”

Freddie switches legs, bending himself over his right knee. “No.”

“Okay, liar.” Auston pokes at the hickey because he’s a dick. “Everyone knows you don’t do casual.”

Freddie tries to grab at his hand but Auston’s too quick, rushing back to his stall to put on his shoes.

 

The sun is out when he finally heads for his car, still bundled up in a jacket, scarf, and beanie. He doesn’t know how people live in climates like this their whole life. He plugs his phone into the aux cable and notices an insta notification.

It’s Mitch, he discovers, requesting to follow him on his locked account.

That’s an easy yes. Auston spends too long scrolling through Mitch’s photos and stupid little videos. He has a lot of friends, a lot of _guy_ friends, and something in Auston’s chest hates that. What he doesn’t hate is the exactly ten thousand shirtless pictures from the summer. Mitch is the kind of guy that burns more than tans but Auston can’t deny he looks good either way. Further down, there’s a picture of Mitch in a Marleau jersey and a set of Leafs pajamas last Christmas. Cute.

Someone knocks on Auston’s car window and he nearly screams, throwing his phone onto the passenger seat.

“You gonna leave any time soon?” It’s Patty. “You’re kinda blocking me in.”

Auston lowers his window. “Sorry, I got caught up on my phone. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Not a problem.”

He puts his car in reverse and then an idea strikes him. “Hey Patty!” he shouts. “Can I bring Mitch to your party tomorrow?”

Patty smiles. “Sure, the more the merrier. I’ll tell Christina there’ll be one more.”

Perfect.

 

Auston spends most of his pre-game nap stressed about how to ask Mitch if he wants to come to Patty’s. They’re not like, actual friends. They’re…co-workers? No. Business…partners? Auston is a patron of Mitch’s services. Whatever.

They’re not friends and they’re definitely not boyfriends who go to team events together but, the team likes Mitch. And frosting hundreds of cookies and playing mini sticks with kids seams like something Mitch would be good at.

 _I’ve got a proposition for you,_ Auston texts.

He doesn’t have to wait long for an answer. _Shoot_

_There’s another party tomorrow afternoon. Pretty chill just some of the guys and their wives and kids frosting cookies. You wanna go?_

_For sure!!!!!! What time??_

Auston wasn’t in a bad mood before but wow he feels like he just backflipped through a rainbow. _12:30. It’s kind of out in the burbs, you wanna just come to my place and we can ride over together?_

_Yeah. Just send me the addy, I’ll get a ride._

Auston knows he should try to sleep but the little smiley Mitch sent at the end of his text makes him way too giddy to sit still.

Today is a great day.

 

At least until the Red Wings take them to overtime that night and they blow it. Auston can’t get his jersey and gear off fast enough. He’s _pissed_. He doesn’t have the patience for his laces and cuts through them instead of taking the time to untie them. He needs to put new ones on anyway.

He really doesn’t want to do media but of course they want to talk to him about all their failings. He tries to put on a stoic face and grit his way through it. No personality, just clichés. Gotta play a full 60 minutes. Gotta get pucks to the next. Gotta be better next time.

“C’mon, Matts. It’s just the Wings,” Brownie says. “Don’t look so glum.”

Auston knows he shouldn’t be so sour but he’s was having a fantastic day. “I know, I’m just frustrated.”

“I bet Mitchy could help with that,” Naz chirps from a couple stalls down.

He wishes he had a ball of tape to pelt him with.

//

Auston is running late the next morning.

He’s changed his outfit at least three times and his shirt an additional four. His hair is a mess and Mitch is here, right on schedule.

“I’m running late,” Auston says by way of greeting. The rest of his words, however, die in his throat.

Mitch is wearing a soft cream sweater with a dark blue button-up underneath and Auston can’t breathe for a full ten seconds. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. Just like, chill for five minutes. Whatever.”

He rushes back into his room and rifles through his drawers until he finds the henley that makes his arms look massive. His hair is hopeless, he’s just going to have to deal with it. Shoes are another pressing matter but now that he’s gotten the rest of his clothes finalized it should be easy.

Should be.

High tops are too casual, and loafers are too formal. Boat shoes are not appropriate for winter. He’s left with about five pairs to choose from and a small clatter from the bathroom reminds him that Mitch is here waiting.

Maroon Vans it is.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he announces to no one. “Mitch?”

“In here!” he calls from the hall.

Auston finds him sitting on the closed toilet lid with his word board in his lap.

“I’m almost finished, I swear.”

He really liked _Beer Pong Glory_ but maybe Mitch is coming up with something just as good. “We’re gonna be late.”

Mitch sticks a couple more letters on and lights it up. “Ta-da!”

Auston reads the board and then reads it again.

_I think it’s M’Fashnik_

_Like “mmm, cookies.”_

“I don’t…get it,” he says.

Mitch seems to find that delightful and sets it on the back of the toilet. “It’s from Buffy,” he says, getting up to lead Auston toward the front door. “Her sister and Xander are trying to figure out how to pronounce this bad guy’s name. It was the first thing I could think of about cookies.”

Auston locks the door behind them, smiling to himself. Mitch is weird, still talking about Buffy and Xander as he heads for the elevator.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling over at Auston on their way down to the garage. “I babble.”

“It’s cool.” _I like hearing you talk_ , he doesn’t say. The elevator quickly breaks their silence. “I’m parked over here.”

Auston honestly hates driving but he’s made the trip to Patty’s often enough it’s almost second nature. Mitch immediately chirps his music and fiddles with the radio until he finds Christmas songs.

“Gotta get in the spirit,” he says.

Auston huffs. It’s still too early in the month for him, but he lets Mitch have this. It’s only a thirty-minute drive.

//

When they get to Patty’s, Mitch is surprisingly shy. He stands behind Auston as he introduces him to some of the wives, boyfriends, and kids he didn’t meet at Gards’ party, politely shaking hands and giving high-fives.

Christina gives him a warm hug and Patty slaps him on the back, offering him a beer. Mitch kind of looks like he’s trying not to shake out of his skin.

“Y’okay?”

Mitch takes a long drink of his beer. “You didn’t tell me we were going to _Patrick Marleau’s_ house, oh my god.”

Oh, right. “My bad. I forgot you were in love with him.”

Mitch sputters. “ _Don’t_ tell him that.”

Auston would never. He remembers how wide-eyed and embarrassing he was when he finally met Shane Doan after a lifetime of watching him play. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The red of Mitch’s cheeks subsides as they’re both suddenly surrounded by kids looking for a goalie to shoot on. Mitch hands Auston his beer, letting himself be pulled by a Marleau son toward the mini sticks goal.

Something weird clenches in Auston’s chest when Mitch lets himself be tackled by a pile of children.

“He’s good with them,” Christina says, appearing with a glass of white wine and a sugar cookie.

Auston’s mouth goes dry. This may have been a terrible idea. “Y-yeah. He is.”

“How long have you been together? Pat didn’t mention you were seeing anyone.”

“Oh, uh.” Auston takes a drink of Mitch’s beer. “It hasn’t been that long. We’re taking things slow.”

Willy steps in to play goalie for the other team and Mitch leaves his crease to try and score on him. Almost does, too.

“When he’s done, come decorate some cookies,” Christina says. “Before the kids grab all the good ones.”

Auston agrees, taking a seat on the couch to wait them out. There’s a holiday movie on the big screen and a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. It’s nice. Zach plops down next to him, a cookie hanging out of his mouth.

“Willy likes your boy,” he says, chewing. “He wants him to be his new bestie.”

That makes Auston laugh. “What Wily wants, Willy gets, eh? I guess I should warn Mitch he’s being courted.”

“You think he’ll stick around?”

Auston hates Zach. He hates him and his perfect relationship and his stupid questions. “Probably not.”

“Jesus, Matts. The guy is head over heels for you.”

Auston wants to scream. “It’s really not like that.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He takes another sip of Mitch’s beer. “I accept that.”

“You shouldn’t.” Zach’s face falls. “You deserve to be happy.”

Auston refuses to admit that Mitch might make him happy because it doesn’t matter. None of this matters. After the holiday party at the end of the month, Auston and Mitch’s relationship ends. It’s over. There’s no reason to get attached to something that already has an expiration date. “I am happy.”

“Yeah, okay. Go decorate some cookies, you asshole.”

Mitch is still on the ground, making bad saves against the slew of kids. He kicks out his leg in a great Freddie impression and Auston almost wants to clap. “Hey,” Auston interrupts. “I think the cookies are almost gone.”

Mitch’s smile is disarming. His hair is slightly out of order and Auston wants to brush the errant strands back into place. “Okay, yeah. Good game, guys!” He makes sure to high five each kid before getting to his feet. “Whew, they’re good.”

“They get a lot of practice.” Auston smiles.

The kitchen is mostly full of the women of the team, all gathered around the island with various colors of frosting.

“Alright,” Mitch says, the initial awkwardness of the party gone. “I’ve been told there are cookies.”

They make room for the two of them to grab a few cookies of various shapes and pass over the piping bags. Mitch grabs the blue and immediately gets some all over his hand.

“I’m going to be bouncing off the walls if I eat too much of this,” he says, licking his fingers clean. “So good.”

Auston absolutely does not consider getting frosting on his own fingers just so Mitch can lick it off.

“What’s your number again?” Mitch asks, indicating the jersey shaped cookie he’s covered in blue.

“Very funny,” Auston deadpans.

He watches Mitch doodle a 34 onto the cookie with white icing he also manages to get on his fingers. “Here,” he says, passing the bag. “Do a candy cane.”

Auston does as he’s told, making thick lines of white and red all the way down the cookie. He manages to not get frosting all over himself, which he considers a win.

“Not bad,” Mitch appraises. “Try Santa.”

Auston’s Santa looks a little wild behind the eyes and his beard is mixed with a few colors other than white. Mitch is making another jersey, this time with his own last name in tiny print between the shoulders. He finishes it with a 16.

“Why sixteen?” he asks.

Mitch shrugs. “Just a lucky number.”

“Did you play?”

“Not really. I mean, I know how to skate and hold a stick but it just wasn’t my thing.”

“Not very Canadian of you.”

Mitch laughs softly, tapping his shoulder against Auston’s before reaching for another naked cookie to frost. Auston picks a reindeer and covers the whole thing in brown, dotting two little blue eyes and a bright red nose.

Mitch holds up a snowman that looks like it lost a fight with a cat.

“Cute,” he lies.

It’s worth it to see Mitch beam and reach for another snowman and two little snowbabies, smearing white frosting all over them and adding matching blue scarves to each. They all have crooked, wiggly smiles.

Auston’s heart almost can’t take it. “I think I’ve ruined enough of these.”

He excuses himself and goes back to the living room where the fire is still crackling. He settles on the couch and breathes. This was a stupid place to bring Mitch.

“Too romantic for you in there?” Zach asks. He’s sprawled out on the other couch with Willy tucked up under his arm.

“No.”

Willy sits up. “Then why do you look like you’re stressed the fuck out?”

“I can be stressed about a lot of things.”

“But you’re not,” Willy says, like he knows anything. “You’re stressed about one thing. With pretty blue eyes and a big, dick-sucking mouth. He looks gorgeous in that sweater.”

“Stop hitting on him.”

“Someone should.” Willy huffs, falling back into Zach’s arms.

“I hit on him like, a lot. He’s well hit on,” Auston argues. “He’s very happy with the amount I hit on him.”

“Okay, Matts,” Zach says.

“Oh, there you are!” Mitch says, barreling into his side with a plate of cookies. “Christina said we could take some home.”

“Are you ready to go?” Auston asks, drawing Mitch closer with the arm he had stretched along the back of the couch.

“Nah, whenever. I just wanted to make sure I got my whole snowfamily.”

“Aw, a _snow_ family,” Willy coos.

Auston knows he’s blushing with Mitch leaning even further into his side. He dares himself to brush his fingers along Mitch’s neck, right where the ends of his hair are curling.

Mitch shivers.

It would be the perfect moment to excuse them from the party, to take Mitch home all hopped up on sugar and see if tastes just as sweet.

But Auston settles for holding Mitch like this, soft and innocent. He considers nuzzling into the top of his hair. He bets it’s soft, no gel or hairspray in it.

“Anyone else want a beer?” Zach asks, suddenly.

Auston waves him off.

“So Mitch,” Willy says the moment Zach’s left the room. “How’d you like to hang with me and some of the other Better Halves while the team’s away? We usually have watch parties and stuff, rotate which house we go to. Naz’s girl makes this awesome dip.”

“Oh, uh.” Mitch looks to Auston, totally out of his depth.

Auston knows it’s probably a pretty bad idea but he’s not quick enough to come up with an excuse to get Mitch out of it. Instead, he shrugs unhelpfully.

“I guess I’d have to see? I’ve got some stuff going on the next couple of weeks. But I’d love to, if I’m free.”

“Awesome.” Willy gets up to come sit next to Mitch. “Gimme your phone, I’ll add you to the group chat.”

Auston should step in and stop this. Mitch isn’t a Better Half. He isn’t a boyfriend of the team. He’s a…a _placeholder_ for someone Auston may never meet. This is all getting way out of hand.

“Yeah, cool. I’ll let you know,” Mitch is saying, taking his phone back with a smile.

Willy looks gleeful as he heads for the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry,” Mitch blurts when they’re alone. “I didn’t know what to do or say without blowing it.”

“It’s cool. Willy’s just like that.” Auston kind of wishes Mitch hadn’t moved away from him, he misses his warmth along his side. “I don’t care if you hang out with them. They really like you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Do you like them?”

Mitch sighs. “I’m hanging out with the Toronto Maple Leafs, what kind of question is that.”

“A legit question! You could totally hate us all and the only thing keeping you here is the money!”

Mitch’s face kind of falls. “Bro, I’d hang out with you for free.”

Auston swallows, Mitch’s words sitting heavy on his chest. “Okay, cool. Then, you know, do what you want. About Willy, I mean.”

“Okay.”

Auston doesn’t really know Mitch well enough to read his face. He has no idea if he said the right or the wrong thing. He probably just fucked everything up.

“You wanna play me in mini sticks?” Mitch asks, before Auston gets too caught up in his head. “I bet I can kick your ass.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows in challenge. “You wanna put some cash on that bet?”

Mitch leans in close, lips right up against Auston’s ear. “An hour’s pay.”

“Someone’s confident.”

“Hell yeah I am. You in?”

Auston’s already on his feet. This is going to be an easy 65 bucks.

//

He gets the Venmo notification the next afternoon as they’re boarding the plane to Boston, an additional charge listed for _kicking your ass._

Auston pays it.

“Mitch collecting on his bet?” Freddie asks from the window seat.

Patty had made sure to video their game and post it to the team chat. Everyone knows just how badly Auston lost. “He’s a shark.”

“Or you’re just really bad at mini sticks.”

Auston puts his headphones on. He doesn’t need this negativity in his life.

 

The beginning of the road trip is tough, losing more than they win. Auston doesn’t even feel like going out after the one game they do manage to win. He’s scrolling through Netflix, trying to find something to fall asleep to when he gets a Snap notification.

It’s from mmarns and it’s just Mitch’s face, eyes rolled. _Willy was offended we weren’t snap friends_.

Auston takes a pic of his middle finger. _Tell Willy we’re more romantic than Snapchat._

The next picture is of a big screen TV at a bar he doesn’t recognize. _So romantic._

He switches over to text. _Sorry you watched that shitty game._

_I’ve watched shitty Leafs games my whole life. At least you were on the ice for this one._

He doesn’t really know how to respond to that and instead, goes back to Netflix. He picks _Stranger Things_ and starts from the beginning, even though he’s seen every episode.

 _Not my best work_ , he texts back, feeling self-deprecating.

_Shut up Auston Matthews, savior of Toronto_

_Not a savior if we don’t win._

Auston almost drops his phone when he sees Mitch’s name pop up. He tries to flatten his hair before accepting the facetime request.

“Hey, bud,” Mitch says, looking as good as he ever has. “You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. Just kinda pissy about this road trip. You didn’t like, have to check up on me.”

“I’m not checking up on you. And don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re so good.” Mitch looks to be walking outside, the streetlamps lighting him up every so often. “You’re like, the best.”

It does make Auston smile a little. “Where are you?”

“Just walking back to my car from the bar. It’s just around the corner.”

“How are you walking around Toronto without a hat?” Auston’s cold just looking at how few clothes Mitch is wearing.

“My ears are used to this. Hats are for like, late January and February. Way too early for hats.”

“Your ears hate you.”

Mitch runs across the street, if the bouncy image of his chest is any indication. Then he hears the double beep of a car unlocking. “I’ve gotta set you up in here,” Mitch says. “So just gimme a sec.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Mitch comes into clear view, settled behind the wheel.

“Hey,” he says, all pink from the cold.

“Hey.”

“You wanna keep me company on my drive home?”

Auston licks his lips, bites at the bottom one as he considers turning Mitch down. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he says, because he hates himself.

“Okay, awesome. I actually had a question for you.” Mitch checks behind him for traffic before pulling out.

Auston’s stomach clenches up in wait.

“So, Willy invited me to the Panthers game,” he says. “The one on the 20th? And I wanted to ask you first before I gave him an answer.”

Oh god, Auston’s brain pings in seven different directions. All of them circling back to the idea of Mitch in one of his jerseys, name spread across the fabric between his shoulders. “D-do you wanna go?”

“Auston. I haven’t been to a Leafs game in literal years. I would go in a heartbeat. But we’re not…this is a weird situation and I don’t want to fuck it up for you.”

Auston’s traitorous brain wonders what size Mitch wears. “If you can tolerate Willy for that long, then go for it.”

“Seriously? I mean, I’m super pumped to go, but I don’t want to overstep. It’s not like this would be a date, right? You’ll be on the ice. I probably won’t even see you at all.”

“Is that weird for you?” Auston doesn’t say that he’d want to see Mitch in the locker room after, that he’d give security his name so he could get down there without hesitation.

“No. Not weird.”

Auston can hear Mitch’s indicator clicking as he makes a turn. “Well then it’s settled. You’re going to the game.”

Mitch cheers. “My friends are going to be _pissed_.”

Auston thinks Mitch is probably a large and wonders if the team store has any in stock.

//

They win the game against the Panthers in stunning fashion but Auston has so many other things on his mind.

Namely the fact that Mitch is in his locker room wearing a jean jacket with Auston’s last name and number spread all over it. Willy must have made it for him, like he did for all the other Better Halves. Which is like, amazing, but also so, so fucking terrible.

The jersey Auston got Mitch is draped over his arm and the look on his face is priceless.

“Holy shit,” Mitch says, coming to hover by Auston’s stall. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

Auston is _thrilled_.

“I could kiss you on the lips.”

Mitch’s gaze is bouncing around, watching the guys start their post-game rituals, so he doesn’t see the absolutely embarrassing look that spreads across Auston’s face at the mere idea of kissing him. “Uh, yeah, so I think we’re going to go to Kappy’s after this? If you wanted to join.”

“Yeah, cool,” Mitch agrees. “Would it be awful if I took a picture of the logo? For like, proof?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just don’t fucking step on it.”

Watching him take a selfie with the maple leaf, Auston realizes he would honestly give Mitch anything. He’d pull down the moon if that’s what he wanted. It’s terrifying.

He’s never felt like that about anyone.

Shit.

“I rode here with Willy, is it okay if I hitch a ride with you to Kappy’s?” Mitch is back in his space, smile still plastered all over his face as he scrolls through his phone.

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

“Awesome.”

Yeah, awesome.

 

The ride over is fine, Mitch mostly watching the city fly by. His phone pings the whole way, comments and likes from his friends. Auston wonders what they think of all this.

Nope, that’s a terrible train of thought to go down.

He should just probably like, not think about it.

Ever.

“We’re here,” he says, pulling into a spot under Kappy’s building.

Mitch is still wearing the Matthews jacket when he gets out of the car and it’s like a shot of fire right up Auston’s spine. His name looks so good on him.

They’re one of the first ones there and Kappy greets them with little glasses of eggnog, already spiked. Freddie’s in the living room, basking in his big win. Brownie’s with him, laughing about something he said. Auston sits on Freddie’s other side, jostling his knee into Freddie’s leg.

He pokes at his neck, another small circular bruise barely hidden by his shirt collar. “I’m going to annoy you until who tell me who it is.”

Freddie swats at his hand. “I’m bringing him to the party.”

“Did your invite say _Freddie and Guest_? Don’t wanna spring this on Mo, he’ll lose it.”

“It’s taken care of. Go bother your boyfriend.”

Auston snuggles into Freddie’s side. “But I haven’t bothered you in so long!”

Brownie gets up. “You guys want anything to drink?”

Auston still has the first glass of eggnog Kappy gave him. He doesn’t really love the beverage, but he sips politely on his glass until Mitch comes over and takes it from him to finish. Willy shows up a bit later without Zach, who was icing something in the locker room before they all left. He probably went back to their place to sleep it off.

Auston takes the chance to chirp him anyway. “Hyms let you off your leash tonight?”

“Wild and free,” Willy says with a cocky smile. “Better hide your boyfriends.”

Auston spots Mitch talking with Mo and Gards. One of them says something about the jacket and Mitch spins to let them see the whole thing.

“Like my handwork?” Willy asks.

“Yeah, its…it’s good.”

Willy laughs. “You’re totally freaking out.”

He is, absolutely. “Whatever.”

“This is like, the longest you’ve ever dated anyone, isn’t it?”

Technically, Auston dated this girl in high school for like, six months before it just wasn’t worth the charade anymore. But he doesn’t really like to count that. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay to want to _keep_ dating him. You know that, right?”

“I know how dating works,” Auston snaps.

“I’m not sure you do.”

Auston’s getting pissy, annoyance crawling over his skin. He hates being talked to like he’s…like he’s an idiot. “Zach already gave me the pep talk, but thanks.”

“We just want you to be happy!” Willy shouts over the music.

“I _am_ happy!”

Willy drags him to the nearest corner, tugging him down to his height. “Me and Zach are happy. Naz got married, _he’s_ happy. Patty and Christina are _happy_. You’re…holding your breath. Like you’re waiting for something bad to happen instead of enjoying it.”

“I’m fine,” he protests, shaking Willy’s grip. “Me and Mitch are fine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Auston echoes, firmly.

He’s done with this, turning away from Willy to find Mitch. He spots him with Naz, another glass of eggnog in his hand.

“Hey,” he says, sliding his fingers along the curve of Mitch’s back. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Mitch happily follows him, downing the rest of his drink and saying goodbye to everyone they pass on their way to the door. He fiddles with the car radio, humming along to the Christmas music he puts on. He teases Auston with how easy it would be to take the empty hand he lays on the armrest.

Auston keeps both hands firmly on the wheel.

When they get to Auston’s place, Mitch follows him upstairs, making no excuses this time about using the bathroom.

He offers Mitch a glass of water and watches him settle on the couch, pulling the blanket off the back of it to wrap up in. “You gonna come sit?”

Auston steels himself before joining Mitch on the couch, sitting so his feet brush against his thigh. “I’m glad you had fun tonight.”

Mitch beams. “I had the time of my life.”

He wraps his hand around Mitch’s ankle, thumb smoothing along the knob of it. It’s too much, he knows, but Mitch lets him, almost seems to stretch out a little more.

“Y’know,” he says. “This deal comes with a kiss you have yet to cash in on.”

Auston inhales, squeezes Mitch’s ankle. “Thought it was a public goodnight kiss.”

Mitch pokes him with his toes. “You savin’ it for the big party?”

“Maybe.” The truth is, Auston can’t imagine a situation where kissing Mitch once would be enough. Where a single, chaste brush of lips on the way out the door would ever satisfy the fire he’s been burning for Mitch since the first time he saw him on the corner outside Gards’ building. “I should, uh, can I get you a ride?”

Mitch tilts his head, appraises Auston, before giving him his address. “Lemme use the bathroom real quick.”

Auston pulls out his phone and waits, scrolling through twitter and Instagram, skimming through a few articles about their big, redeeming win. Mitch doesn’t take long, heading straight for the door to put his shoes on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks.

Auston agrees, still sitting on the couch. “Yeah. Be ready by six.”

“Okay,” he says, softly. “Thanks again for tonight.”

Auston opens his mouth to argue he had nothing to do with tonight but Mitch slips out into the hall before he can.

The click of the door mirrors the sound of something cracking in his chest.

Because he hates himself, Auston goes to the bathroom to check the letter board.

 _Goodnight_ , is all it says.

//

Mitch looks stunning when Auston picks him up and it’s almost hard to keep his eyes on the road as he drives them to Mo’s. His dark grey slacks sit tight across his thighs and he left a few buttons open at the top of his white shirt. He’s wearing a watch that looks nice and a gold chain that barely peeks out from his shirt collar.

Auston is overwhelmed.

Mo’s house is covered in tasteful white lights and he can see a big tree lit up in the front window when they arrive.

Auston tries to rush around the car to open Mitch’s door but he’s already stepping out into the light dusting of snow they got overnight. Auston’s plan of being a Good Fake Boyfriend is already failing. He offers his arm anyway and Mitch takes it with a soft smile.

There are a couple of professionals taking pictures and Mitch leans close while the flash blinds them under the chandelier of the entryway. Auston hopes they look the part.

“Do you want champagne?” Auston asks. “Or whatever fancy beer Mo got? I don’t think this is a Bud Light kind of party.”

“Champagne sounds good, thanks.”

Auston weaves his way toward the bar and spots Freddie there, ordering something with bourbon and a Jameson and ginger.

“Something for your date?” Auston asks, nosy as ever.

Brownie appears from the left and takes the Jameson. “Thanks, babe.”

Auston gapes.

“Auston,” Freddie says, pulling Brownie close. “Meet my boyfriend, Connor.”

They all laugh a little as Auston drags Brownie into a hug, giving him a quick shovel talk. He’s happy for them, happy for Freddie. He hopes it sticks. Freddie deserves someone nice like Brownie. “You could’ve told me, y’know.”

Freddie takes Brownie’s hand. “We needed to see if it was worth it first.”

“How long?” he asks, grabbing two glasses of champagne.

“Just before Halloween,” Brownie says. “Not too long.”

Auston thinks it’s nice. “Congrats, guys.”

“Just following in your footsteps.” Brownie nods over at Mitch, chatting with Naz’s wife Ashley and a couple of other girlfriends.

“I should…” He raises the glasses of champagne. “I’ll see you around.”

Crossing the room to where Mitch is, Auston’s whole mood sours. He almost feels sick to his stomach passing off the drink with a forced smile. Mitch doesn’t seem to notice, gently clinking his glass to Auston’s before taking a sip.

This was supposed to be simple. A business transaction. Sixty-five dollars an hour for a fake boyfriend who didn’t take up any space in Auston’s heart, who didn’t need any of his attention or emotions. No strings attached.

Auston would like to know when exactly he got so attached.

Somewhere between Mitch crushing Willy and Zach at beer pong and picking him up for the party tonight, Auston made a tactical error.

“You okay?” Mitch asks, his hand curved gently around Auston’s elbow.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I think I might go? But, uh, you should stay,” he stutters out. “You should stay and hang out with everyone for as long as you want, okay?”

Mitch looks confused, shaking his head as Auston slams the end of his champagne.

“Merry Christmas, Mitch.”

And with that, he turns and rushes for the door. He doesn’t even bother to grab his coat, the cold feels good as it bleeds through his clothes. He breathes it into his lungs and appreciates the burn. Anything to drown out the shattering pain of heartbreak.

“Auston!”

He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t allow himself to look. His car is just at the end of the driveway, he can make it.

“Auston.” Mitch grabs him, stops his forward motion. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

Mitch frowns. “Did I do something?”

“No! No. Of course not. You’re…you’re perfect.”

Tiny snow flurries are starting to stick in Mitch’s hair, it’s unfairly beautiful. “Then what happened in there,” he asks. “Something happened.”

“I’m just, I made it weird,” Auston confesses. “I made it weird and that’s not on you.”

“You made it weird?”

“Yeah. I went and like, caught feelings or whatever instead of just being chill about it.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “This was supposed to be a service and instead I went and…”

“And what?”

Auston meets Mitch’s gaze and can’t look away. “I fell for you.”

Mitch doesn’t run or yell or bitch about it. He doesn’t back away or laugh or punch him. Instead, Mitch reaches out to brush Auston’s hair behind his ear and cup his jaw, gentle and kind. He bites his lip and flicks his eyes down to Auston’s mouth and back up again. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do the same.”

“What?” he says, like a dumbass.

Mitch just smiles, slides his hand to the back of Auston’s neck to pull him closer. “I stopped acting like, halfway through the first party.”

Auston slips his hands under Mitch’s coat, fitting them to the dip of his waist. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ , you idiot. Gonna do something about it?”

Auston kisses him, drawing him as close as he can. He kisses him until he hears a soft little moan and then kisses him some more. He kisses him with tongue and with just a little bit of bite. He kisses him until Mitch pulls back to breathe.

“Okay, so we’re going to do that like, a lot more,” Mitch says, forehead leaned against Auston’s. “Immediately.”

“You don’t wanna hang out with Willy some more? Drink free champagne?”

“Absolutely not.”

Auston presses another kiss to Mitch’s lips before taking his hand and leading him to the car.

//

The next morning fades in slowly as Auston tightens his arms around Mitch, warm and still asleep. It’s a first for him, waking up with someone, and he relishes in it, sliding his hands down smooth skin until he reaches the elastic of Mitch’s boxers.

He snaps them once, gently, and gets a groan in response.

“Morning,” he says against the skin of Mitch’s neck.

“Too early,” he whines.

“Yeah,” Auston agrees, brushing a hand back up to Mitch’s chest, thumb flicking over a nipple. “But what if I blow you and then let you go back to sleep.”

Mitch rolls over, buries his face in the crook of Auston’s neck. “Yeah, do it.”

Auston gets Mitch on his back, his bare chest on full display. “Put your hands over your head for me.”

Mitch wiggles in protest but does it. Auston fits his teeth around a nipple in thanks.

He takes his time working his way down Mitch’s body, kissing along the lines of his ribs, the cut of his hips. He gets him out of his boxers and props his feet up so he has room to work. There’s a pale bruise already on Mitch’s inner thigh and Auston kisses it before wrapping a hand around Mitch’s dick.

It’s easy to get him hard, get him panting and whiny. Auston loves it.

“You want my mouth?”

Mitch knocks his knee against Auston’s shoulder. “You said.”

“I did. But you told me you like to beg for it, so here we are.”

Mitch throws his head back, arching his neck. Auston keeps playing with the head of his dick, getting it nice and slick and wanting. He strokes Mitch a few times, takes pleasure in the way his hips lift to try and get more.

“You’re so pretty like this. Fuck.”

Mitch gasps when Auston kisses close to the base, down where he's shaved smooth. “ _Please_ ,” he begs. “Auston, baby, please. I want your mouth.”

Auston obliges immediately, sucking Mitch down as far as he can. Mitch chokes on a shout, a hand coming down heavy on Auston’s head, fingers twisting in his hair.

It’s Auston’s turn to groan, loving the tug on his hair almost as much as he loves the way Mitch fills his mouth. He hollows his cheeks, dragging his lips up to the tip.

Mitch sighs. “You’re so good at this.”

Auston redoubles his efforts, pulling Mitch to the edge as fast as he can. His thighs shake, knees threatening to box Auston in as he sucks and sucks and sucks.

Mitch’s hand slips from Auston’s hair, curves down around his cheek to feel the way he’s filling Auston so well. Like his dick was made for it.

Mitch tenses on a particularly wicked upstroke. “I-I’m close,” he warns.

Auston pulls off, hand still stroking Mitch as he reaches for the little tube of lube he slipped under his pillow last night. He gets Mitch to help him squirt some out and holds their dicks together in his slick hand, thrusting his hips like he’s fucking him.

Mitch is breathing heavy and his eyes squeeze shut just before he comes all over himself. Auston shouldn’t be far behind, jacking off at a brutal pace until he spills onto Mitch’s stomach as well.

“Fuck,” Mitch sighs. “I never knew a blowie could be so good.”

Auston flops onto his back, smiling. “It’s just me.”

Mitch swats him. “Go get a cloth, clean me up.”

Instead, Auston swipes his lube-sticky hand across Mitch’s chest. “I think you need a shower before you go back to sleep.”

“I could kill you.”

Auston rolls to press a kiss to the cap of Mitch’s shoulder. “You can’t. I haven’t left you a review yet.”

Mitch softens. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “I’ve got a permanent gig now.”

“Permanent, eh?”

“I mean, he hasn’t asked me yet but I have a feeling.”

Auston finds Mitch’s hand, kisses his knuckles. “Spend Christmas with me.”

“You’re really trying to define the relationship when I’m covered in jizz?” Mitch laughs, scooting off the bed. “Real romantic, Matthews.”

“You started it!” he shouts after him. “You can’t just leave! We were having a heartfelt discussion!”

Mitch turns on the shower.

//

Later, after Auston’s made breakfast and Mitch’s hair has dried from his shower, Auston finds his letter board propped up on the back of the toilet.

_Yeah, for sure._

“Is this your answer?” he shouts, grabbing the board and rushing into the living room.

Mitch smiles. “What do you think?”

 

 


End file.
